"Professor Hawthorne and I never got along," I started. "We always locked horns back at Huntshrow. He was the head of Woolyrun, and he taught History of Magic, which was one of the hardest classes you could possibly take. Professor Hawthorne was strict, don't know if he is now, but he was back then. His lectures were difficult to follow, commonly using big words that we didn't really understand, and he would often go on tangents that were off subject but still yell at us to take notes. Fortunately, his exams were straight from the book, but certain portions were dedicated to what was discussed in class. He's brilliant, really knows his stuff, but student relations was something he really needed to work on.

"One day, something happened towards the end of the class hour. Hawthorne was handing back graded exams. He handed a paper to a kid in my class named Houston Smith. Houston was in his sixth year, and I was in my third, apparently, Houston had some scheduling mishap and never took History of Magic until then. Which really sucked.

"Why?" Daphne asked.

"Because Houston and I hated each other. He was a bully. He picked on younger kids all of the time, but the day he picked on me in my first year, I stood up for myself.

"Anyways, back to that class with Hawthorne. He handed back the graded exams to Houston, and since I have this 'eagle eye,' people call it, I saw he failed his test. And I burst out with obnoxious laughter that rang out up and down the halls. Houston jerked around in his seat and glared at me as his lips twitched.

'Mr. Magpie, may I ask what is it you find that is so jocular?' Hawthorne asked.

"I thought about it. Did I announce to the world that Houston failed his exam? Or did I spare the trouble and not say a word? At that moment, I remembered back to earlier in the week when Houston tripped a first-year Wolveros student in the hallway who spilled all of his books and started crying because he was so embarrassed.

"Then I saw Houston glide his thumb horizontally over his neck while scowling at me, and then I made up my mind. I wasn't gonna let him intimidate me.

'Yeah, Professor Hawthorne. I'm laughing my arse off because Houston over there failed his exam in a third-year level course,' I hollered.

'Rollie. Why don't you see me at the end of the school day,' Hawthorne said in a grave tone.

"The rest of my classes went by, and even though Houston threatened me with a non-verbal gesture, I didn't see him at all. But I went into Hawthorne's class expecting two-hour detention on Saturday morning. That's what he usually gave me for any sort of misbehavior.

'Sit down, at my desk chair please, Mr. Magpie,' Hawthorne said as soon as I strolled in.

'Sure,' I took his seat. It was a black cushiony victorian chair, one that royalty would have in a guest room. I thought it was strange. He made me sit in the comfiest chair while he was pacing back and forth in front of me, with a fire brewing in his eyes.

'I don't know what it is with kids these days. I'm not even that old of a man, just a 45-year-old professor, pretty young by all standards. But punks like you who defy the traditions of Huntshrow make me sick. Colored hair used to be banned in the school, but fifteen years ago, they started allowing it to my great disappointment. Rollie, that green hair of yours makes me nauseous. I hate that it represents a much larger problem: children got their way because they threw a temper tantrum, so now the whole school allows such lunacy. Rollie, that denim jacket with those deplorable patches makes me queasy. This ridiculous notion of juveniles expressing themselves in such fashion is idiotic and distracting from the real reason why they are here, to become wizards and witches. They should wear robes at all times, including weekends,' he stopped his pacing and glared at me. 'Rollie, I loathe your behavior. You are the ultimate problem student. If I could, I would deduct points from Wolveros every day that you show up to my class because I hate the sight of you and your stupid mischievous grin. And today, I almost exploded when you made light of Houston's exam.'

'I was just evening the score. You missed Houston making a first-year cry earlier in the week,' I argued with my heart thudding in my head.

"Hawthorne's head fidgetted. His hands were trembling. I shifted in my seat and analyzed all of the ways I could escape from his classroom. He crept up to me with one eye twitching and the other bulging out. His hand dug into his robes, and he drew out his wand. He gave it the tiniest flick, and ropes came out from the chair to tie my hands and feet down.

'Professor Hawthorne!' I shrieked.

"He approached me as his face twitched violently. I blanked out for a second; he had pummeled my eye. A surge of pain swelled in my brow, then the blunt force of another haymaker blasted the other side of my face. A blow to my jaw sent my head rocking as I spat out a puddle of blood and saliva. The last thing I remember seeing was Hawthorne's fist in the air after an uppercut to the chin.

"I woke up in the hospital wing of Huntshrow where the healer said, 'Rollie, I know you like to keep your black eyes usually, but headmaster Pine has requested I clean them up for you. He doesn't want too much attention drawn to this incident.'

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"She told me how I blacked out, and the headmaster Wendell Pine stopped Hawthorne from continuing his attack. A whole investigation was launched. Hawthorne was forced to resign, but when he took the veritaserum, it was revealed he had no intention of ever physically harming me, but instead, someone placed the Imperius Curse on him. Huntshrow still forced him to resign, citing an incident like that was likely to happen again since he couldn't defend against it the first time. And now, just two years later, he's in my life again at Hogwarts," I burst into tears.

As soon as I started crying, Bran and Edna put their arms around me and rubbed my back. Daphne gazed at me in silence, her eyes were glassy and tinted red. None of them said a word as I sobbed so hard that eventually, my whimpers were silent. When my eyes dried up and a trace of my voice came back, I said in a strained whisper, "I'm sure he's all good now. I don't want to freak you guys out. It's just I couldn't help but have a panic attack when I saw him," I sniffled and slumped my head. "The last time I saw him was that horrible, horrible day."

Daphne slid her chair closer and held my hand, the warmth of her grasp healed much of my anguish. "It's going to be all right, Rollie. You're going to have a good year here at Hogwarts, the three of us are going to make sure of that. You seem like a really cool guy, and we're excited to get to know you more."

I looked up to meet her eyes, and my stress was alleviated. I held her hand just a little tighter.

Later in the evening, when all of the students entered the common room, everyone greeted me, and I tried to match their enthusiasm, but I wasn't at the same level of joy as the rest of them. Bran showed me the way to the boys' dormitory before all of them showed up. I put everything away and organized my stuff, making my four-post bed as comfortable as possible.

I was surprised that the socializing was cut short, and many of the other students in the room honored a rule of 10 PM quiet time for those who may have wanted to study late at night or if they just wanted to fall asleep. Ten boys stayed in the 5th year bedroom. All of them were sure to shake my hand and introduce themselves. My depression was eating me alive, but I feigned smiles, laughs, and forced myself through introductory small-talk. I was lucky, not a single student judged me or said a rude remark.

When it was time to go to sleep, the lights were turned off, and all of my fellow Hufflepuffs leaped into bed and passed out as soon as their head hit the pillow. I seemed to be the only one tossing and turning.

"You don't belong here, this isn't home, it never will be. You thought you could just have a fresh start? Nope, coward. Your problems can't be forgotten about. They are still alive and well in your head. Let's go over them again for the millionth time, shall we?"

No! I'm going to think happy thoughts. I am going to focus and put forth positive energy towards something else.

Daphne. My goodness, I didn't think my heart would flutter for someone so quickly. Remember when she held my hand earlier? And when she sat next to me on the train? Could you imagine if she was lying next to me right now, her arm around me? Her touch could mend everything. Just picturing us in a hugging embrace was healing enough. I wonder if she had similar thoughts…

"You sure?"

Huh?

"Is this what you really want? Me to be your only friend? I don't want to be the center of your life."

No, Farrah, please, I don't want to hear any more of—

"I mean, what's going to happen when we get done with school? You have no ambition. You don't even try to learn and take advantage of the magical education offered to you, and yet you think the whole world is against you. What are you even rebelling against? Who are you trying to kid? Your self-loathing is exhausting, and I can't take it anymore. I don't think any girl could."

Farrah, I know, please, I've learned. I still don't know what I'm doing, but I'm better. I'm going to find happiness elsewhere, and I'm going to learn to love myself.

"Yeah. Right. I'll see it when I believe it. Sorry, Rollie. I can't be your only friend anymore."

I winced as I laid in bed, a few tears snuck out like a teenager out of their strict parents' house.

If only I could take a late-night walk on the grounds to settle my nerves.

"You ready to get your schedule, Rollie?" Bran whispered.

I shot out of bed and glanced around. "Where is everyone else?"

"Well, Tommy over there is still sleeping. You're not late or anything. It's just all of the guys hang out in the common room until we have to go to the Great Hall for breakfast and get our schedule for the term."

"I see, well, just give me a moment. I'll meet you in the common room shortly."

When I arrived, everyone was already shuffling towards the door. I jumped in line with the rest of the bunch. We all headed towards the Great Hall, Bran and I linked up with Edna and Daphne. The four of us sat towards the end of the Hufflepuff table next to the prefects once again.

"Here are the course schedules for the American, the Quidditch captain, and her two minions," a prefect said, offering four scrolls to us with an outstretched grin.

Daphne snatched up the papers and passed them to each of us. "Thanks, Clark."

"We're not her minions, dude," Bran eye-rolled.

I unraveled my scroll, and the four of us compared our courses together like generals in the war room.

"Splendid! Looks like we'll have Defence Against the Dark Arts together with the Slytherins, as well as Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. Nice, we all get to spend our morning together!" Edna beamed.

"We also have Charms and Potions together in the afternoon, the fifth class of the day is where we split off, though, except Rollie and I have Care of Magical Creatures together," Daphne smirked.

"That's wonderful," I blurted with too much excitement. They all stared at me, confused. "Uh, anything I should be aware of with any of the professors or...whatever?"

The three of them glanced at each other and collectively shrugged.

"If you know your wizards from the Second Wizarding War, you'll definitely be familiar with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Quite the celebrity. He was Minister for Magic two years ago but then came to Hogwarts to wrap up his Ministry career as a teacher for the foreseeable future. Brilliant man. His class last year was awesome, challenging, but fascinating. I think you'll really like him," Daphne said. "Although he makes you sit next to someone from the opposite house. Last year I had to sit next to the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Layla Moors, blech."